


Girls and Monsters

by Croatoanvirus2014



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croatoanvirus2014/pseuds/Croatoanvirus2014
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa/Margaery fic set in whatever episode Margaery says "some women like pretty girls" because there's no way that's possibly straight at all. Mentions of Joffrey being his usual terrible self, and Olenna Tyrell being great and wonderful because she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you all like this!! also i wrote it in the style of George R.R Martin, and by that i mean a shit ton of description and very little dialogue, so i hope you all like that

            “… Some women like pretty girls,” Margaery finished as she held out a rose between her and Sansa. Sansa hesitantly accepted it, her fingers delicately brushing over Margaery’s hand as she took the rose in one hand, making sure no thorns pricked her on accident. _Was this normal?_ She wondered. She presumed that it may not have completely been normal, but Sansa also recalled Margaery wasn’t from a conventional family, and that the normalities of King’s Landing seemed not apply to her. She had helped out those poorer than her, had interacted with the young children forced to live in the streets, and had forced those serving her to pass out bread and toys, wanting to make the children filled with joy. The Tyrell’s, Sansa believed, were truly good people. Even Joffrey, despite his usual cruel nature, defended Margaery doing good things for people instead of scolding her, which was truly an odd turn of events. Maybe Sansa herself _had_ grown to like pretty girls.

            “Would you mind us stopping for a second to go sit down on a bench? My feet seem to be hurting for some reason,” Sansa suggested, her voice a slightly higher pitch than her usual. Margaery nodded her head as she led Sansa over to a grey, stone bench, still keeping one arm intertwined with Sansa’s. A light wind breezed over them, causing Sansa’s gorgeous auburn hair to flow with the wind as she smoothed it back down, a small smile on her face. At the sight of Sansa’s grin, Margaery decided to intertwine their fingers, and was relieved when Sansa didn’t pull back or act frightened, partially in joy that Sansa might like her, partially glad that though Joffrey seemingly had destroyed her, that she still had the capability to trust other people in this world to not hurt her. Sansa let out a small sigh.

            “The sky is so beautiful today, don’t you think?” She said as a change in topic, although she didn’t completely want to avoid Margaery’s earlier statement, if she were being honest with herself. Margaery looked up at the sky, light white clouds decorating the blue backdrop above her, a look of hope in her eyes that this beauty and peace could last.

“It is,” Margaery said lightly as she looked Sansa directly in her eyes, believing that Sansa’s eyes captured within her both the vibrant, bright blue of the sky and the light, shimmery blue of the sea, if that were possible. Sansa glanced over at Margaery seconds later, not being able to help but notice how the sunlight hit her at such an angle that it made her look like a halo of light was forming above the long strands of her chestnut brown hair, giving her the appearance of a person sent from the old gods of Winterfell themselves. 

_Winterfell, if only I could be back there right now._ Though Sansa knew she may never be back there, she still held out hope. Hope that one day, she would be able to see the crimson red leaves of the godswood trees, that one day she would be able to down into the winding tombs that held the history of her family in memoriam, even if the tombs were dark and frightening places. Maybe she would take Margaery for comfort if the opportunity ever came to pass. Maybe they could light a torch and let the flame flicker above them as Sansa described to her the great feats of her ancestors, and tell her how much she was glad to be back in Winterfell. If only. For now, however, being at comfort with the Tyrell’s seemed to suit her just fine. Though Olenna came across to others as harsh, Sansa respected her greatly, and knew that she cared deeply for those she loved. Loras was a wonderful tournament knight, and was very attractive in Sansa’s opinion. And Margaery? Well, she loved her. In which way she hadn’t quite figured out, but she had a deep affection for her that was only reinforced by the small bouts of time they were allowed to spend together.

            “Would you like to join me and my grandmother for a glass of wine? I’m sure she would be fine with it,” Margaery suggested. Her grandmother had told her that Sansa was always welcome company, and Margaery could use something to drink. Sansa contemplated the idea for a mere second before happily nodding her head in confirmation. They walked hand in hand, Sansa still holding the rose close to her chest, to the gazebo where Olenna was already sipping on a glass of deep red wine, her face of irritation fading when the pair entered her line of sight.

            “Well come and join me! Don’t be a stranger,” Olenna shouted as Margaery and Sansa walked towards her, both of their dresses dragging the slightest bit behind them. “Sansa, darling, you look gorgeous in that dress,” Olenna complimented as a mother would have.

            “Thank you,” Sansa replied in a soft voice as she sat down in a cool, metal chair. She smoothed her light grey-blue colored dress that had a deep plum pattern sewn into it, and folded her hands in her lap as she patiently waited for a conversation to start, not wanting to be the one to speak first.

            “You know, Sansa, if you want something to drink, all you have to do is ask,” Margaery told her while taking a seat next to her. She couldn’t help but keep looking over at her, and had to agree with her grandmother that Sansa _did_ look gorgeous in the dress she was wearing. The grey-blue color only helped to bring out the beautiful color of her eyes that she frequently stared into as of recently. The dress clung to her in all the right places, showing off the faintest hint of curves, and Margaery believed her clothes only served to make her look more beautiful than she already was.

            “I think I would very much like a glass of wine, if that wouldn’t be a problem,” Sansa admitted with a light blush forming. She wasn’t used to asking for much ever since she had met Joffrey, and to know that she wouldn’t be punished for requesting something made her feel that much more at home with the Tyrell’s. Her request was granted quickly, and she started to slowly take sips of the most delicious wine she had ever tasted. She couldn’t stand whatever flavor of wine it was that Joffrey drank, although, she though, they may have mostly been because she had a distaste for Joffrey himself. The sweetness of the wine made her smile as she continued to drink it, and in drinking it, it seemed like her worries seemed to fade as she really started realizing where she was. She could see green vines growing all around her, as well as bushes where beautiful flowers in shades of pink were in bloom. Off in the distance she saw what seemed to be hundreds of trees covered by bright green leaves. Out of the corner of her eye she saw some type of bird take flight. Signs of life surrounded Sansa as she finally felt alive for the first time in a long time. And there was Margaery, sitting next to her. It felt like everything had just clicked in place, and that the continuously turning gears in her mind had slowed, as if she finally had the answer to a question she hadn’t known she’d been asking.

            “Sansa?” Margaery asked.

            “Yes?” Sansa replied in confusion.

            “What do you think of the wine?” Margaery asked sweetly, raising her eyebrows slightly.

            “It’s delicious, thank you,” She said, mainly to Olenna. They sat making casual chat until Sansa had downed two glasses of wine, enjoying the sweetness of both the wine and the company. Olenna was the one dominating most of the conversation, but in a way that made Sansa feel like she was at home. In many ways, Olenna reminded Sansa of her own mother, who she hoped was still alive and out there somewhere. She was nurturing towards both her and Margaery, and was constantly ranting about how the men of her family caused so many problems, despite her warning them to stop seeking out trouble. She was more blunt than her own mother, Sansa observed, but she was fine with it. It was nice to be around people that were known for telling the truth.

            “Sansa, would you like to accompany me for another walk? The weather is just wonderful today, and it would be a shame to sit around on a day so nice, don’t you think?”

            “It would be a shame,” Sansa agreed, grabbing Margaery’s hand as she stood up from her seat. Her hands were smooth, she noticed. Sansa also noticed how her lips were stained a deeper shade of pink, most likely from the wine. Tucking her hair gently behind her left ear, Sansa and Margaery walked slowly into a garden, making sure to not trip over their dresses.

            The garden was filled with bushes of flowers in the most beautiful variety of colors Sansa had ever seen in her life. The deep reds of roses captured Sansa’s eyes first, reminding her of the color of leaves on the godswood trees. She stared at them for a few seconds before continuing her walk around the magnificent garden. The dirt underneath her shoes reminded her of the times she would play outdoors with Arya when they were younger, and how Arya would always end up a huge mess, and how they would both laugh about it later. The green stems supporting every flower reminded her of when it would finally get warmer outside and grass would actually grow out in the forest, which usually signaled that it was fine to be outside for days at a time, which Robb and Arya would take full advantage of while Sansa usually stayed indoors and learned how to sew, figuring that it would someday be an important life skill for her to have. Most of all, this garden reminded her so much of home that she had already decided she was going to claim it as her new home until she could get back to Winterfell.

            “Aren’t they beautiful?” Margaery asked, gesturing towards the Orchid’s that were a nice magenta color mixed with a light purple.

            “Very,” Sansa agreed while leaning down to smell them. The scent was light, but a pleasant one none the less. Looking back at Margaery, she saw the unmistakable look of a girl who was in love. She had truly only seen it between her own mother and father, but she knew that look without a doubt.

            “Almost as beautiful as that dress you’re wearing,” Margaery complimented, a slight grin on her face as her eyes glanced over Sansa’s dress.

            “Your dress looks beautiful as well,” Sansa responded, now standing face to face with Margaery, the tension in the air palpable. Sansa could tell she was in love by the way there seemed to be butterflies in her stomach, which was something her mother described she would feel whenever she fell in love. She hadn’t believed her at the time, but in this moment she knew it to be true. She was _in_ love with Margaery, and to her, she could only think Margaery felt the same way. Margaery started leaning in closer to her, giving Sansa plenty of time to step back or lean away if she wanted to, but Sansa decided to go for it and her lips were pressed against Margaery’s. The taste of the wine they drank served to make the kiss taste sweet as it felt, Margaery’s soft, tender lips pressed against Sansa’s bruised ones, but neither of them mentioned it as they melted into a kiss that felt like they both had found a new home in each other. Sansa took the initiative to intertwine their fingers, wanting to feel the softness of Margaery’s hands against her hands that were flecked with a mosaic of shallow cuts and fading bruises, things neither of them paid any attention as Sansa felt Margaery’s tongue slide into her mouth nervously, and a bit awkwardly. Their tongues danced together in an awkward waltz, both of them not having much experience with kissing in their lives. Margaery inhaled deeply, smiling into the kiss as the scent of flowers became a more and more prevalent smell. After seconds, however, both of them fully realized what they were doing, and pulled away in fear of being caught.

            “What if somebody saw us?” Sansa asked in fear, already feeling her chest start to heave against her will. Her breaths got shorter as she tried to change her expression to one of neutrality, and as she started furiously biting her nails, Margaery gently placed one hand on her shoulder, a gesture that helped her to calm down, even if only slightly.

            “We’ll be fine, I promise,” Margaery assured both Sansa along with herself. “This garden is barely visited at all, and especially isn’t visited during the middle of the day. The only time I’ve seen people in it is in the early hours of the morning,” She finished. Each word spoken seemed to calm Sansa down. She took a few deep breaths as she let her arms fall to her sides as she said a silent prayer to the gods that nobody saw them. She knew that they could get killed for this, locked up for this, or even tortured for this. For something as innocent as a kiss. Yet still, Sansa couldn’t deny that both of them had wanted this.

            “Come on, we can go back to my room so you can calm down,” Margaery suggested. Sansa nodded her head slowly and let out a long sigh as they walked back to Margaery’s room, knowing that everything between them had changed, for both the better and worse. She knew that nobody could find out about her and Margaery, and that it would be a daily struggle to make sure they never slipped up. Never gave each other so much as a mere kiss on the cheek in public, never hugged for a few seconds too long, never did anything that “normal” couples were allowed to do. However, she was okay with it, because Sansa knew that although everybody practically demanded that men and women be paired together, that those relationships didn’t always end well. As she looked herself up and down and saw the remnants of just how many times Joffrey had laid a hand on her in a way meant to harm, she realized she didn’t mind spending the rest of her life staying with Margaery in secret. Margaery, she knew, would never intentionally harm her, would never smack her so harshly that she sobbed for hours on end, and would never scream at her that she was terrible. Never. Joffrey was a monster. Margaery was a girl.


End file.
